Watching You
by Postapocalypticdepository
Summary: Bella and Edward have always kept distance between their attraction. But what happens when Edward decides to entice Bella by showing off one of his attributes? This was inspired by a Flash Fic prompt.
1. Chapter 1

Welcome to PAD's flashish fic.

Stephenie Meyer owns these _Twilight_ characters.

I'm just the puppet mistress pulling their strings.

* * *

**Watching You 1**

* * *

I notice his rippled form resting over the weight bench after his rigorous workout.

Tonight, he and I are the last ones here.

A mesmerizing sheen coats his smooth, tanned skin, while his masculine scent bumps me like an unruly punching bag.

He turns to see me just showered and eyes my moist, reddened skin and wet, dripping hair.

Without any make-up, I turn away, embarrassed and self-conscious.

His head shakes in encouragement, imparting that I needn't worry that I'm without my mask.

His consistent charm habitually captures my interest and pulls me in.

I'm forever on the rope's weaker end of his tug-of-war.

My pulse pounds at my temples like my feet do on the treadmill.

We've been here countless times with others, but never like this—alone—before.

We mostly keep our distance when the game we are in is played.

Yet his grin conveys his victory as my essence succumbs to seduction.

His right hand inches downward across his abs as his left hand lifts away his waistband to accommodate the stroke he gives himself.

He repeats this action while staring at me, wondering if I'll accept his challenge.

His blood, like mine, must be flowing fiercely.

It doesn't take my eyes long to find out where it's gone.

When he slinks his pants down further, there's no underwear in sight.

And out pops his seditious cock making its prominence known, no longer rebelling against the confines of his fitness gear.

I unwrap the foil and wet my lips in anticipation of my only indulgence—a dark chocolate, melting kiss.

His eyes widen, and he swallows hard as my mouth accepts the creamy confection.

Finally, he gives up his words.

"You know you want it, and I know mine tastes better…

So what are you waiting for?"

* * *

A/N:

What do you think she's going to do?

What would you do?

Review me your thoughts.

* * *

Thank you to the one and only, Chayasara, for beta'ing.

My post-beta stubbornness, a.k.a. my mistakes, are my own.

* * *

Thank you for reading.

PAD


	2. Chapter 2

Welcome to PAD's flashish fic.

Stephenie Meyer owns _Twilight_.

I just want to play with her peops.

* * *

**Watching You 2**

* * *

I grab my bottled water, taking a sip and swishing it before swallowing, diminishing the kiss's sweetness.

He eyes the drop of liquid left at the edge of my mouth as my tongue's tip begins its ascent around my upper lip. Slowly it moves from one corner to the other, moistening as it completes its journey until it stealthily slides itself—sly, wet, and pink—back into place.

I note that the patterned rise and fall of his chest becomes more frequent due to my action, and his eyes' jade coloring blackens with the expansion of his pupils, seeming to only further his arousal. I find amusement, surmising my eyes, too, are letting in more light.

Ever the playful tease, he waves his pole at me, rigorously swirling it as if a white flag were attached. I smile because I'm the only one giving concessions and willing to surrender.

His brazen display has me advancing closer yet not wanting to appear too eager. But I'm a goner who's completely enthralled. I certainly have to give his chops props because the part he's playing right now should win him an award—he's that talented.

I really want what he's offering and hate the fact that I'll hate myself if I go through with this. He's hot, and I'm bothered. Right now, it's not the best combination. I shake my head and sigh feeling more than one kind of frustrated. I owe him an explanation for reneging on what he started, but I need to end.

"I'm sorry, Edward. As tempting as you are, I can't do this and still maintain my self-respect. You are handsome beyond words, and I am truly flattered that you would even consider flirting with me."

I turn to make my get away, but he springs off the bench to halt me.

* * *

A/N:

Should she stay, or should she go?

Review me your thoughts.

* * *

A special thank you goes out to Chayasara for her keen eye, warm heart, and incredible beta work.

* * *

Thank you for reading.

PAD


	3. Chapter 3

Welcome to PAD's Flashish Fic.

Stephenie Meyer owns all _Twilight_ characters.

I just want to pull some of their strings.

* * *

**Watching You 3**

* * *

He's now standing in front of me, and it's difficult to keep my attention on his face when the now-covered bulge of his pants is so avidly protesting the fabric obstacle he's placed in front of it.

In other words, somehow he's managed to pull up his pants and sprint over to me in record time.

"What do you want from me, Edward? I really don't think I can do this." I gesture to the weight bench, and my words echo my frustration as they leave my lips.

"God no, Bella. I'm so sorry I got carried away. Please forgive me. I honestly don't know why I did that or what came over me. You must think I'm so crude and such a scumbag. That's not who I am."

"It's okay, Edward. There are no hard feelings." I turn to grab my gym bag and begin hurriedly walking towards the front door to leave into the darkness, trying to preserve some of my integrity.

"No! It's not okay. Bella, stop! Don't go! I'm seriously such fucking a prick. If I could go all Edward Norton/Tyler Durden _Fight Club_ on my own ass right now, I would."

I smile at his reference and the fact that he's managed to lighten the mood and relieve me of my tension over feeling somewhat cheap and almost used.

"Really, Edward, it's okay. Uh, I have to go pick up a few things, then get something to eat."

"Then let me make it up to you."

He reaches out and touches my forearm.

"I want to take you out to dinner. Please allow me to."

"Um."

"Is thirty minutes enough time to do your errands? I won't take 'No' for an answer. I'll meet you at Gerandy's in a half hour."

I think long and hard, and unfortunately, something long and hard enters my thoughts. I shake my head. He's trying to apologize here. I can do this. Let's see where this goes.

"Sure. Dinner would nice."

"Good. Give me time to shower and lock up. I'll see you there, Bella."

* * *

A/N:

Is Bella making the right decision?

What would you have done?

Review me your thoughts.

* * *

A special thank you goes out to Chayasara for her keen eye, warm heart, and incredible beta work.

* * *

Thank you for reading.

PAD


	4. Chapter 4

Welcome to PAD's Flashish Fic

Stephenie Meyer own all of _Twilight_.

I just want to prod her characters.

* * *

**Watching You 4**

* * *

God, what should I do?

I could just...not show up.

_Sigh_. That would be the coward's way out.

But what if I do go and he starts playing again? Can I say no? Do I want to say no?

Why did he have to go and do that...wave his _thing_ at me?

We were having so much fun just teasing each other every time we worked out, deliberately keeping ourselves on pieces of equipment opposite each other in our rotation.

Yeah, but what did I go and do?

I kept arriving later and later to work out when I knew there'd be fewer and fewer people.

He knows as much as I that this would happen.

It started off as being so innocent.

I remember the day we met.

It's his gym after all.

When I first walked in our eyes locked. There was an instant connection. He unconsciously licked his lips while he continued to stare at me. He stopped paying attention to his Zumba group even though the others kept on moving. The women in the class threw daggers at me. No one since has evoked that kind of reaction from him.

Even in his periphery when helping others, he was always watching me.

And to be frank, I didn't want him to stop.

I had every intention of standing him up, but here I find myself at the restaurant.

I take a deep breath and shake my head as I smile before opening the door. I look around for a table and note that he's already here.

It's only been twenty-six minutes, but who's counting?

"Bella, over here...I took the liberty of ordering you a glass of Moscato as I've overheard you mention it's your post workout treat."

"Thank you." I say it as I raise my glass and take a sip.

I'm so glad I could make you come."

The wine instantly spits from my mouth and all onto Edward.

I cough a bit before adding.

"Sorry Edward, but that was an interesting choice of words."

* * *

A/N:

So will Edward find the humor or be a bit perturbed?

Will this dampen the evening or just heat things up more?

Review me your thoughts.

* * *

A special thank you goes out to Chayasara for her keen eye, warm heart, and incredible beta work.

* * *

Thank you for reading.

PAD


	5. Chapter 5

Welcome to PAD's Flashish Fic.

Stephenie Meyer owns all of _Twilight_.

I just want to poke her peops.

* * *

**Watching You 5**

* * *

He rubs his reddening cheeks with the brown linen napkin, clearly showing signs of the faux pas he's just uttered.

"Um, I guess I could have said that a little differently."

"Yeah, you probably could have."

Our silence is anything but comfortable. If it were any lengthier, I would have expected the sounds of crickets chirping. When we both decided our silence was long enough, we spoke at once.

"Look, Edward, about tonight…"

"Bella please, let me explain…"

We begin our words on the same note, similarly, but soon realize we are each playing a different symphony.

"I need to get this out, Bella."

"Okay, you go first, then."

Whew. He shakes out a breath and starts fidgeting with the saltshaker. His eyes aren't willing to meet mine when he speaks.

"Look Bella, what I did was extremely unprofessional and pretty perverted, and you didn't deserve that. You caught me at a weak moment, and I know that's a piss-poor excuse for my behavior. I won't deny that I'm _very_ attracted to you. In fact, you pretty much own my waking thoughts, and for that matter, my sleeping ones, too. But it's fairly dangerous for me to be in the same presence as you, seeing I almost dropped a hundred pound weight on my foot yesterday when you first walked in."

Oh God, he's breaking up with me, and we're not even going out. I feel pathetic. But I have to maintain my dignity.

"Edward, it's really okay. I understand. I can try out that other gym on 6th street if you prefer that I not be around you. It's your gym after all. I get it."

Extremely crushed over his reveal, I stand up ready to leave, wanting to just get the hell out of here before I leave him any of my tears.

"_What_? Bella, where are you going?"

"Edward, you just told me I shouldn't be around you. What am I supposed to think?"

_Damn it! Cue the waterworks, Bella!_ I can't help the disloyal tears that begin accumulating at the corners of my eyes.

"Oh, God, I'm really fucking this up, aren't I? Bella listen to me. I'm **not** chasing you away. If anything, I want you closer… I've never been as affected by a woman as I am by you. I truly have trouble saying _that_, too, because I never have. I'm so embarrassed and completely out of my league. You do things to me no other woman has done before. I can't explain it. You turn me into some kind of raw, primal animal. I find myself having absolutely no control when I'm around you. When you were showering earlier, it took everything I had not to strip completely down, unlock your door, yank back the curtain and fu… I mean, ravish you…

Like requiring air for breathing, water for thirst, and sleep for sanity, you make me want to need you…

If what I've just said doesn't convey my feelings, then I don't know if I'll ever be able to tell you what you've just begun to mean to me.

* * *

A/N:

So, do you think Bella has some goosebumps?

What do you think she's thinking now?

What are you thinking?

Please review me your thoughts.

* * *

A special thank you goes out to Chayasara for her keen eye, warm heart, and incredible beta work.

* * *

If you like this B & E, please share them with a friend or two.

* * *

Thank you for reading.

PAD


	6. Chapter 6

Welcome to PAD's first flashish fic.

Stephenie Meyer owns all of _Twilight_.

I just want to workout in Edward's gym.

* * *

**Watching You 6**

* * *

My mind has changed.

Still standing, I huff out, "Edward, take me back to the gym."

I offer him a clipped tone he doesn't deserve because my impatience is getting the best of me and because I decided to walk here, leaving my car back there.

"Look, Bella, you don't need to clean out your locker tonight. If you're really serious about leaving, I understand. You could always get your things tomorrow, or I could always br..."

He needs to understand.

I cut him off mid-sentence when I grab both sides of his face by his sideburns and pull his lips to mine.

He tastes pleasantly bitter and fairly "stouty" like the micro-brewed beer he's just had and smells clean and soapy like the freshly showered, slightly spicy man he is.

But he feels... _kiss_...

He feels cold at his mouth... _kiss_...

Smooth at his lips... _kiss_...

Soft at his nape... _kiss_...

And rough at his chin.

I pull back and see the darkened, excited pupils of Rudolph with his red nose, panic-stricken on an ice trucker's highway.

I want to squelch his uncertainties, so I nip and tug playfully at his lips, conveying that I wholeheartedly approve of his prior words and desire to move things forward a bit.

I clasp his hand and pull him to his feet.

He dumps two twenties on our table in payment for our first, and now second, round because our waitress had just deposited another set of drinks while we were occupied.

I take my nine-ounce wine glass and tip back all of its contents, not coming up for air until I'm done.

Edward follows suit and completes the same action, guzzling all of his beer.

_Ahh_ is the only sound he makes as he brings his hand up to his chin to swipe at the scant molasses-like trail that has escaped.

I halt his action and bring my hand up to his jacket's collar to pull him down towards me.

With my mouth now more closely aligned with his, I run my tongue over the fine grit of chin to capture the stray liquid.

His stubbled skin is smooth like fine sandpaper and sends tingles throughout me as my lips find his again.

Sensing some other patrons' eyes on our outward displays, I break away first and begin to pull Edward by his hand out the door.

Conveniently, he had found a spot just around the corner.

Two chirps from his car's remote and a-warm-hand-guiding-my-back-into-his-front-seat later and Edward turns to face me.

"Are you sure this is what you want to do, Bella?"

* * *

A/N:

Well, instead of Edward taking his own bull by its horn, I guess he's now letting Bella lead him around by it.

What are your thoughts?

Should he let her lead?

Or should he take back control?

* * *

Special thanks goes out to Chayasara for her keen eye, warm heart and incredible beta'ing.

* * *

Special thanks to Sunflower Fran for rec'ing me on Facebook. Just like her name implies, she gives us happiness.

* * *

Also, if you're not reading "Under My Nose" by Gabby1017, you ought to be. It's a sweet, New Orleans read with a very different Bella and Edward and some very memorable, original characters. I'm glued to her updates.

* * *

If you haven't already done so, come friend me on Facebook. I'm Apocalyptic Depository there.

* * *

As always, thank you for reading.

PAD


	7. Chapter 7

Welcome to PAD's flashish fic.

Stephenie Meyer owns it all.

I just want to coax her characters.

* * *

**Watching You 7**

* * *

The intoxicating smell of new car leather is slightly hypnotic, but I don't let it deter my mission. Without hesitation I support myself with my left hand while angling to caress his "stiffie" with my right one. I guess this leaves Edward little doubt over my intentions as he lets out an _ungh _at the same time he forces himself back into his seat while raising his pelvis to further meet my touch.

I increase my pressure. He's so hard. If I didn't know any better, I'd swear he was carrying a nightstick in his jeans as there's absolutely no give in what I plan on taking.

He starts his car's engine, and as it purrs melodiously, my thoughts digress towards hoping I'll be evoking some similar sounds from him tonight. I clutch harder onto the stick under Edward's zipper. My action forces him to near full throttle, because right now he's clutching, too, only using a different stick to get us safely back to his gym.

This must be his lucky night, as all of the traffic lights yield their minty coloring to Edward, meaning it only takes him about sixty seconds to get us there.

"Anxious much?" I razz.

"You have no idea." He offers with little composure.

He uncouples himself from his seat then springs over the hood of his Jaguar R-Type. And if automobiles resemble their owners, then his is aptly named, because his catlike reflexes land him at my window.

Additionally, he beats me to opening my own door, as I barely get my seat belt undone. As I turn from where I'm sitting and look up and at his face, I see a hunger in his eyes I've never seen. And although I'm sure he's famished, I'm certain the look he's giving me has nothing to do with wanting actual food.

He reverently helps me up from my passenger's racing style seat and out of his car. But when I'm out and onto the pavement again, he looks at me playfully.

I swear the green coloring of his eyes has spread to his face because he plasters a Grinch-like smile over his lips before hunching down and grabbing both sides of my waist.

Effortlessly, he hikes me over his left shoulder and conveniently places his hand over my butt to hold me in place. His right hand is free to unlock the front door and disarm the alarm.

Once inside, though, he places me down on the carpeting and actually looks a bit sheepish over his brazen display. This positively will not do, considering it was his, initial, brazen display that got us here in the first place.

"Bella, are you still okay with us here, or would you rather go upstairs to my place?"

It's not news to me that Edward owns this building or that he dwells in it, too. But it would be too easy to just give in to him dragging me up into his lair. If he wants what I have to offer, he needs to work for it. Besides, I know the layout down here and feel a certain neutrality amid the machinery.

"Here will be just fine."

I sense by Edward's gulp that he feels like a visiting team even though he should clearly be asserting a home court advantage. His darting eyes, perspiring brow, and wringing hands indicate he's even more worked up than I had originally thought. I assuredly want him to be a different kind of worked up, so I need to intervene.

"Bella?"

Before he can question our intended action, I grasp his hand and guide him through the darkness. I'm his seeing eyes without canine senses, but somehow I manage to sniff my way to the corner with the bench where all of this began.

My wine buzz, hitting me with full force now, speaks.

"Show me what you've got, Cullen, and give me what I came here for.

* * *

A/N:

Now who's brazen?

Who has the control?

Review me your thoughts.

* * *

Thank you goes to my stupendous beta, Chayasara.

* * *

Thank you for reading.

PAD


	8. Chapter 8

Welcome to PAD's sweaty, non-air conditioned, establishment.

Stephenie Meyer owns the entire, cool, _Twilight _workout world.

I just want to borrow some of her fans.

* * *

**Watching You 8**

* * *

I literally back him into the padded piece of equipment. The pits of his knees strike the side of the bench making him to lose his balance, causing his steel buns to thud against the surface of it as he's forced to sit. I continue my advance until I am standing between his legs but not before I flicked a lone wall switch, which now bathes our area in dim, cautious, yellow light.

Edward's breaths are now rapid. He reminds me of a cornered, panicked, mammal. His eyes meet mine frequently but dart out to the sides of the room possibly looking for alternative means of escape. I understand why, too, as I catch a glimpse of a feral, determined, woman I've never seen as her image reflects back at me in the wall mirror adjacent to where I stand and where he sits.

I continue my unabashed actions by lowering my head and grabbing his shirt to pull his face towards mine. Our mouths strike hard, and I feel the cartilage in my nose slightly crunch. By all rights, I should be in pain. But my adrenaline rush keeps saying fight, not flight. So I continue my aggressing by roughly parting his lips with my plunging tongue desperate to suck his like a Dyson until the pop of my vacuum's release has him looking every bit as disheveled and foreign as the wild girl staring back at me from inside the silvered glass.

"Lose the pants, workout man." I impatiently say.

He listens well and doesn't need telling twice, because in addition to the 501's he's stripping-off, he is sliding down a fresh pair of thigh-hugging BVD's. His hands speedily work on both clothing articles, and he even takes his socks off after removing his Doc Marten's for good measure. I sigh because, God, I love a guy with great feet. And he's going to need his, going to need them—every bit of bare—to dig his toes into the napless carpeting seeking leverage when dealing with what I plan on doing to him.

* * *

A/N:

What is our girl planning to do?

I bet Edward's thinking about some other uses for Bella's Dyson.

Review me your thoughts.

* * *

If you are interested, please check out the work of these fine women:

Gabby1017, Jonesn, Daphodill, Ohgeefantasy, Redtini and Robsmyyummy Cabanaboy.

* * *

Thank you for reading.

PAD

Another chapter will post shortly after this one, tonight.


	9. Chapter 9

Welcome to PAD's flashish fic.

Stephenie Meyer owns everything _Twilighty_.

I just like giving her characters less character.

* * *

**Watching You 9**

* * *

I don't think his hands, or mine for that matter, will need to coax the now erect part of his anatomy. A construction engineer would be proud to use his vertical device as a precise measuring instrument.

As he moves to remove his opened leather jacket, I shake my head signaling I want it left on. However, given my level of excitement, my surprisingly nimble fingers are able to negotiate the opening of his oxford shirt buttons with a patient ease.

Once I absorb his mouth-watering, more than half-naked form, I use one French manicured finger on his textbook chest to guide him downward, prostrate against the padded vinyl covering. I now smirk, assessing how perpendicular that part of his anatomy actually is, and although he technically has control over it, he doesn't have control over me.

And it shows. It shows in the uncertainty of his gorgeous green eyes, and in the clenching and unclenching of his nervous hands, and in the circling of his excited tongue moistening his eager lips.

I feel bold, yet bad, and I know I have to reassure him. Still fully clothed, I carefully swing my right leg across his awaiting part, mindful not to touch it , and I straddle his waist and carefully situate myself on top of his Madison Avenue abs.

Clad in jeans myself, if I were to rock against one of his muscled bumps, I might not need his pole to help me vault upward and off into my own oblivion. But seeing as though said pole is already stuck in the upright position and against the bar of my back end, it would just be wrong not to take full advantage of the opportunity for more.

I inch my upper half forward and this time gently kiss Edward, conveying that I care not to hurt him and that this can be civil as well as meaningful. I also sweetly run my lips over his five o'clock remains, which are remaining even more because it's now after ten.

His whiskers, struggling to make their presence known, feel good abrading themselves against me, and his lips are pleasantly soft and not too thick or thin. Goldilocks would be pleased—pleased with more than just his lips.

I work my way down his neck, brushing my nose against it while giving slight kisses. When I reach his chest—oh, that fine chest—I push open his shirt and suck one nipple and then the other as I curl my tongue and bite gingerly at his provoked flesh.

"Bella."

He says it as if he's struggling for air, struggling for sanity, or just plain struggling.

As I move over one can of his six-pack, I feather slight nail-brushings over the contours of his stomach. He shudders, squirms, wiggles, and writhes.

Ooh, I'll have to remember this for later—Edward's extremely ticklish.

My tongue finds his innie, and I can't resist. I have to lick. Every part I've tasted so far has been so good. And this part is no exception. As I dip my tip into his inkwell, he doesn't disappoint.

"Oh God, please stop teasing me!"

That's what I wanted to hear—I have him where I want him.

I purposely slide my covered crotch backward and over his anxious cock. Immediately his hands find their way to my waist to hold me there. His eyes are squeezed shut, and he looks like he's in pain. But he's not; he's trying to hang on, hang on to any thread of composure.

He loosens his grip, letting me know I can continue, and so I do. Over his thighs and to his knees, I'm now resting just below them.

Positioning myself, I lean forward placing my hands atop his quads. I lick my lips and pull the small container of Binaca out of my jacket pocket. His eyes go wide as I pull off the cap and spray two shots into my mouth.

I just have to say the words.

"You know you want it, and I know mine tastes better…so get ready for what you've been waiting for.

* * *

A/N:

Touché, Bella, or is it check?

How do you think Edward's going to react?

Review me your thoughts.

* * *

Thank you to my beta, Chayasara, for accepting not only my characters' flaws but mine as well.

* * *

Thank you for reading.

PAD


	10. Chapter 10

Welcome to PAD's flashing fic.

Stephenie Meyer owns all _T__wil__ight_ stuff.

I just hope I don't have to borrow her trench coat to cover Edward up.

* * *

**Watching You 10**

* * *

I dip my head to lick the pearly drop on the tip of his cock. He shudders from the initial action as well as the aftershock of my breath spray. Peppermint oil has lasting, yet exhilarating effects, so judging by his ungh's and ahh's and how his body wants to inch like a worm right now; I think I've achieved my desired objective.

I swipe at him with my tongue again, and his hands immediately go for the back of my head to hold me in place. This won't do. I nip at him slightly in retaliation.

"Ow! Fuck!"

"No hands! _I'll_tell you when you can use them."

"Bella, you're torturing me. That shit's making my dick cold and tingly."

He starts trying to move both legs underneath me, then rocks from side to side, writhing to seek relief. _This is fun_. I'm on a one-dollar horsey ride at the shopping mall and didn't even have to give up any quarters for it.

"I'll be good! I'll be good! Just please, put your mouth back on me. I need warmth!"

"That's better. I don't like to be taken advantage of or taken for granted, either, for that matter."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'll respect you. I'll bow to you. I'll worship you. Just please give me more."

He quickly wraps both hands around the sides of the bench and digs his thumbs into the padding on top, sure to leave fingernail marks behind. I take another lick, and I'd swear I gave him an electric shock with the way his body jolted from the sensation as if he were Frankenstein.

This time, I start on his base at my three o'clock position and slowly lick upward, trying hard not to take my eyes off him. He tenses, arches, and strains that perfect centerfold body, lifting his chin and displaying the tightened cords of his taut neck. I repeat my action on his opposite side with mirrored results. And speaking of mirrors, I gaze sideways to watch the full effect I have on this man and to revel in how I've managed to turn the tables, making him completely comply with my commands.

Wanting to test his willpower further, I begin to take him in.

"Oh yes, Bella! God damn, that feels good!"

His body wash smells pleasantly cinnamony, so pleasant, in fact, he's making my mouth water and my stomach hungry as I realize we never had dinner. _Should I or shouldn't I?_

I think I know the answer. I want to give him his so he can give me mine. He's not the only one desiring this.

My mouth eases down as far as I dare to, as I do have a gag reflex and don't want it tested. Judging by Edward's overly gracious responses, it doesn't matter that I don't take him in all the way. In fact, I could probably dump a bowl of warm pasta over his appendage while stroking him a few times, and he'd still explode being quite happy. And this makes me happy because I just have to appreciate a man that's easy to please.

I stir from the digression and assess that now knowing my limitations, I suppose I can let him assert himself. I pull away from him in order to speak.

"Okay, Edward, you can use your hands, but remember, no funny business. I still have teeth."

* * *

A/N:

Would you let Edward use his hands if you were Bella, or would you force him to go without them?

Is she making the right decision?

Review me your thoughts.

* * *

Thank you to my beta, Chayasara, for putting up with my funny business.

* * *

Thank you for reading.

PAD


	11. Chapter 11

Welcome to PAD's flashish fic.

Stephenie Meyer owns all of _Twilight_.

I just like making her peeps do push-ups.

* * *

**Watching You 11**

* * *

I continue to lap at him. He hesitantly—and shakily, I might add—brings his hand to my head. My last remark must seriously have him on alert, and I like it. It's quite empowering to have this kind of control over this man—this self-assured, cocky, workout god.

This thought forces me to reminisce over the last six months since I began coming here—yeah, coming here. I'm hopeful that phrase will take on an additional meaning after the two of us are finished with each other tonight.

I started in his gym with the goal of shedding ten pounds and toning up some, but here I am, actually having added five more to my no longer spongy form. That's okay, though, because those five pounds plus the other ten I wanted to lose have made me into a lean, mean, confident machine.

Edward's programs and scheduled regimens have given me a rockin' bod, which has me holding my head up high, for once, instead of dropping it down in embarrassment and causing me to trip over my own feet. He's made me feel so much better about myself, too. I'm not little mousy Bella anymore who no one notices.

People actually pay more attention to me. My ideas count and are even praised, though they are still the same ones I've always offered up before. It sucks how appearance and body image dominate my world. Ordinarily, I would not succumb to cheap self-marketing tactics, like muscling up to win approval, but in this case, I was tired of being marginalized and ignored. Working out at Edward's gym has admittedly changed my appearance enough so people, so now respect me.

The one thing especially appealing about Edward, though, is that he's always seen the real me—the weak, meek, geek me who was terrified when she walked through his doors. He saw the scared, self-conscious, unguarded me—the one who would let people walk all over her—but more importantly, he saw me and liked me for me.

Every time I'm here, he never lets me forget it, either. In fact, this is true with everyone he helps, but it always seems that I matter to him just a little bit more.

When our eyes met that first time, I had to look away—but he didn't. I know I'm being silly, but he was so handsome. I was afraid to make eye contact with him because I would have probably turned to stone, salt, or jello.

Even though my eyes turned away, his eyes stayed glued, and they have ever since. I've subsequently wondered why on earth would someone of his beauty and caliber be interested in me. I couldn't grasp the concept, but that doesn't matter. What does matter is that we're here together, now.

I lift my head up to gaze at him with a look that doesn't give away my partial thoughts of disbelief.

He looks at me with similar incredulity as he gently places both of his hands against the sides of my face and cautiously cradles my head. His expression, which is one of hopefulness and gratitude, has me anxious to uncover the answer to a question I've long needed his answer to.

"You can have your pick of any woman, Edward. What is it about me that draws you in?"

He readies himself to speak, and I catch that distinct part of him move—that all male lump in his throat—lowering like a ventilator pump affixed to a hospital wall, offering its life-giving force to sustain others. And in many ways, it—his lump—along with all other parts of him, sustains me. He gives me that life, that force—that feeling I've never had before whenever he's near, making me wonder if I'll ever experience it again if I were without him, but I can't reveal my words of this until he first professes his.

"When you walked through my doors, you sprinted into my thoughts and have resided there ever since. You weren't just a client to me then, and you certainly aren't just one, now. I don't know if I can adequately describe what I felt. I couldn't focus on anything. You made _everything _stop. I've never been instantly attracted to anyone, yet I was with you then, and—very much—still am now.

You constrain me.

You consume me.

You envelop me.

And you tantalize me.

Even when you weren't here, I'd envision that you were…on the elliptical…on the StairMaster…lifting weights…or on the mats, and those thoughts…of you…would make me smile.

_Heh_, Bella, I don't know if this makes any sense, but I miss you even when you're standing right next to me."

* * *

A/N:

What do you think Bella thinks about Edward's words?

More importantly, what will she do now that she has them?

* * *

Thank you to Chayasara, beta extraordinare, a.k.a. my Stair Mistress. I enjoy every minute she walks over me.

* * *

Review me your thoughts.

* * *

Thank you for reading.

PAD


	12. Chapter 12

Welcome to PAD's whatever this is.

Stephenie Meyer owns _Twilight_.

I have no rebuttal.

* * *

**Watching You 12**

* * *

His sincerity is like a stake through my heart, and a skipped beat contracts the muscle, causing my staccato breath. He's concerned for me. I see it in the crinkled creases of his brushy, bristly brow and in the fine leathery lines, refusing to release their clutches around his tired, puzzled eyes.

He needs sleep…He needs rest…He needs a release—and so do I.

My waxing attraction to this beautiful man—this man any camera would fight to its death for just to capture his ethereal image—has reached a conclusion. Edward not only wants me, he needs me. And thankfully it's not a clingy, stifling, obsessive need…He was ready to let me go…He respects me…He apologized…He was a gentleman. I would be crazy not to be _crazy _for him.

I sigh because deep down, my hesitation—as always—rears her Medusa head and tries to frighten me away from embracing carefree spontaneity. But I'm tired of always living my life with training wheels trying to appease _her_. I want to balance by myself on a bicycle when someone lets go. Hell, with Edward, I could soar through heavenly blue skies in an untethered glider. And I _want_ to soar. But I also want his tether and to soar attached to him, only him.

I rise up and off his thighs to smooth his worrisome wrinkles with my caring caresses. I lower my lips to his and unhurriedly kiss and nip and peck. As I pull away, putting some distance between us, I assess the smile he gives me, the smile that says, "I'm so glad I took a chance and let my abandonment bring us to where we are now." I give him that same smile, the smile that thanks him for being the one so bold, and so brave, and so uninhibited.

I ease myself backward over his torso and position myself again at his thighs. He deserves my full attention, and I care more than enough to give it to him.

My mouth finds its way again to his organ. My tongue encircles slowly counterclockwise around the cap of his warm…soft…smooth…pink shaft. As my mouth sucks in the head, my tongue pokes gently at his tip, tasting its salty provisions.

_Ungh_, "What are you doing to me, you incredible…beautiful…irresistible woman?"

And that—right there—makes me want to behead that Gorgon, the one protecting me from shame and self-doubt. I'll only live once, so if I die tomorrow—after what I hope we do tonight—let it be when I'm nestled inside the arms of this magnificent man. Because for once in my life, I want to live, refusing to play it safe.

I muster my strength and courage while I give myself my much needed pep-talk. There's going to be pain, discomfort, a blocked airway and an obnoxious taste, but in remembering this man's challenge and what it meant, I also remember all the playful months and cherished looks it took to get us here. And I won't trade that, nor will I throw it away.

I begin my descent of him, taking care to relax and breathe through my nose. I keep focusing on how badly I want us, how badly I want him. I'm so consumed by my need for this—the way he makes me feel—that I don't even realize I've completely taken him in.

He's big and long, and bigger and longer than I've ever had, which I guess makes him the biggest and the longest. My musings of this makes smile, putting more pressure against his tip, which is now at the back of my throat. He tenses. He likes it.

"Bella…baby…you feel so good. _Ungh_ I knew it would feel like this. I knew _you_ would feel like this."

Just as he was so bold in initiating our original encounter, I'm emboldened by his encouraging words, and I begin a repetitive ascent and descent over his solidified shaft. His male, musky scent, mixed with his choice of spicy soap, leaves my mind swirling. Add those to the hypnotically intoxicating smell of his leather jacket, and I'm as mesmerized as I'm dumfounded by his coercive cocktail.

I'm deeply focused and concentrating on my task when I feel the pressure of the pads of his fingers gently prod and coax me forward. Somehow, he's woven his right hand into my brunette tresses, and I didn't even realize it. His gentle pressure, encouraging me, does just that, and I surrender to his force, allowing him the lead. I know now he won't hurt me, so I let him drive.

My left hand is supporting my weight on his thigh, while my right hand becomes a catalyst, caressing his sac, kneading it gently to urge his release.

"Oh, Bella…oh, honey…that feels so good…don't stop…keep going…I'm coming…keep going…I'm coming…_Ungh, _Oh God!_ Ungh _Fuck!_ Ungh _Fuck!_ Ungh _Fuck, Bella!

I think he came…In fact, I know he did. The hot, salty spurts shot into the back of my mouth and down my throat, and it really wasn't that bad; I'd eagerly welcome it over my chocolate kiss any time, but I won't tell him that. While he's recovering, I'm glad I'm here, diminishing over his still pretty prominent part. As I pull my mouth off him, I ponder my feelings. I like this man. I obviously like him enough to let him be with me in this way. But where does this leave things?

"Bella…?"

I refuse to look up. I guess _she_ didn't die after all as I now feel my embarrassment coming back full force.

"No! Don't you dare do that to yourself."

He knows me so well…knows that I still have esteem issues…knows that alcohol gives me courage…knows that I'll do anything he asks.

"Look at me, Bella."

And I do, complete with tears now pricking the corners of my eyes.

He rises up and off the bench, quickly enveloping me in his arms.

"Don't. Don't feel that way about what _we_ just did. Bella, it was amazing! You were amazing! I've never seen that level of confidence in you. It was demanding, frightening, and sexy as hell. There's nothing for you to be ashamed of. You owned me…and I liked it. And you still own me…and I like that even more."

He splays his left hand around the back of my neck and draws my face to his for a kiss, a kiss that starts out sweet and begs for forgiveness but ends up begging for more of the evening and maybe even the night.

Edward stands up and wraps my legs around his waist while my arms anchor themselves around his neck. He resets the alarm before making way to his domestic entrance. As he opens the door to the stairwell of his living space, he whispers to me.

"Just so we are perfectly clear, you will be spending the night, and it will be the first of many. So get ready to make yourself at home, and let me show you what you've just begun to mean to me."

* * *

A/N:

What do you think?

Review me your thoughts.

* * *

Thank you to my wonderful, spectacular beta, Chayasara, for getting this to you today.

* * *

Check out my other WIPs: "Boys Will Be", "Never Judge By The Cover", "For the Kindness of a Stranger", "Rude Awakenings". Also check out my completed one-shot I'm updating: It's a New Dawn. It's a New Year."

* * *

Thank you for reading.

PAD


	13. Chapter 13

Welcome to PAD's flashish flashing fic.

Stephenie Meyer owns _Twilight _characters worth flashing.

I'd flash them if I had as much inhibition as Edward.

* * *

**Watching You 13**

* * *

Wow! I knew he was rich but didn't know he was loaded.

Immediately upon entering his foyer, fancy wall lighting begins slowly brightening until reaching a comfortably romantic level. As my eyes adjust, I observe and absorb a high tech, quite chic, very male man-cave with state-of-the-art everything.

He still has his firm, warm hands cupping the cheeks of my butt while holding me tightly to his chest and close to his heart. He readies to set me down, but I halt his actions to stare a little longer at the full-length mirror displaying the perfect curves, puckers, and dimples of his Adonis ass, leaving nothing to the imagination.

I stare over his shoulder and ogle him a bit longer until he gives me a perplexing look, just realizing I've been checking out his glorious nudity in the glass reflection.

"While you are at it, would you like the full frontal view as well?"

He pulls away from my cheek to catch my eyes. I just smile through my embarrassment, as I'm turning pink. It's like I'm being caught by my father buying condoms at the convenience store. Awk . . . ward.

I just quirk a smile and give him an off-center bite of my bottom lip as he sets me down. Surprisingly, he actually obliges my silent request and bares himself, still wearing his unzipped cowhide and buttoned-downed dress shirt. His proud part is still standing at attention, saluting me. I could swear it even flinched as it winked, giving me a come-hither gesture while I stood adjacent to him hungrily eying his cheesecake reflection. The muscled movement he uses to wiggle his cock now turns me red and makes me giggle. I angle my head away from him altogether, trying to hide my eager fascination, but he has none of that.

"I am going to make you some dinner because what kind of host would I be if I sent you to bed hungry?"

I think to myself that as long as he gives me other things of his I've been craving, I should be just fine, but I've never been one to turn down a free meal I didn't have to cook.

"And since you seem to like what you see of mine, I think I'll lose the jacket and shirt as well. I can get very hot when I'm cooking."

_Honey, if you get any hotter, I'm going to be the one needing to strip._

Maybe this has been his plan all along.

"But if you prefer, I can lower the air conditioning and change my attire."

Common sense is eluding me as is proper speech as my female Neanderthal takes over.

"No! You, no clothes! Naked . . . Hot . . . Just fine."

I slap my hand over my mouth and stomp on my subconscious hussy's foot, jabbing her forcefully in the ribs with my elbow. What the hell is wrong with her? . . . I mean me. I'm not even sure this qualifies as a first date and already I'm demanding he cook naked for me.

"I hate to disappoint you, but I will be needing to wear at least an apron as boiled water or hot oil could be quite detrimental to certain parts of my anatomy."

I lost everything he said after hot oil. God, what is this man doing to me? Or more importantly, why am I letting him do it?

I swallow hard and tell myself that I can endure this. After all, look at what Edward had to withstand regarding my teasing and the peppermint freeze.

I can do this; it will be a walk in the park . . . albeit a very naked one.

* * *

A/N:

Damn, girl!

What are you complaining about?

Edward . . . naked . . . cooking . . . no argument!

Review me your thoughts.

* * *

Thank you to my beta, the wonderful Chayasara. I'm just a punctuation line cook when compared to this master chef.

Please check out these wonderful women who have posted updates this week: Bornonhalloween, Daphodill, gabby1017, Hoodfabulous, Jonesn, and Robsmyyummy Cabanaboy.

Also, please check out luvtwilight4eva and her story "Falling". This was her submission for the Fanfiction "Mark Me Contest", which was nixed at the last minute. Please show her some love. It's hot and funny.

* * *

Thank you for reading.

PAD


	14. Chapter 14

Welcome to PAD's much longer than a flash fic.

Stephenie Meyer's Edward in _Twilight_ never flashed anyone.

But mine sure does.

* * *

**Watching You 14**

* * *

He gives me an enthusiastic mini tour of his living space—all five thousand square feet of it. He has every kind of room imaginable and had to show me nearly all of them. It was excruciatingly difficult to follow him . . . walk beside him . . . or even pay attention to him while he was showing me things while his things were showing. Just as before his hardness was—and still is—making it very hard for me to concentrate. And as we come full circle (Come? Why did I have to choose that word?), he's led me to his spectacular Mediterranean-style kitchen where he turns to assess my take on his place. He's so excited, elated, and pumped to have me here. (I don't need to be thinking about pumping, either.), he's like a nine-year-old boy on Halloween night experiencing an ultimate sugar high after having eaten his entire candy hoard. I can tell not only by his words but also by his mannerisms that he's really serious about me becoming a fixture here, and I'm becoming overwhelmed.

Just a few hours ago, a gorgeous guy whom I've been secretly pining over for the last six months waved his wand at me. I ashamedly brushed him off, but he persisted. He bought me two strong drinks, and I became the aggressor. I then gave him a life-altering blow job that evidently I didn't even know I had in me. And now he's nearly suggesting I become a more frequent visitor to his place and maybe even more. What the hell just happened tonight?

"I should probably run back downstairs again to grab my socks, underwear, pants, and shoes. I don't need to create gossip material for the cleaning crew, and I meant what I said. Please make yourself at home. I'm preparing you strawberry-glazed chicken with multi-colored-boiled-broiled then pan-fried, seasoned baby potatoes, grilled asparagus, and peach shortcake. In the wine cabinet, I think you'll find a few bottles of chilled Moscato that will go nicely with dinner, or if you prefer a bottle at room temperature, please select what you'd like from one of the racks. The wines are alphabetized according to type, so the m's should be on one of the shelves in the middle. I'll be right back."

Refusing to break eye contact, he cups my cheek and pushes his fingers gently over the side of my face and through my hair, reverently stroking the mounded skin under my eye with the pad of his thumb before kissing my lips and pecking at the tip of my nose before pulling away.

I could get lost in this . . . lost in him.

While he is gone, I act like any curious, nervous girl would; I snoop in Edward's kitchen. As I check out what's in his beautiful spalted wood cabinets, I'm mesmerized by the unique hand-painted accent tiles depicting European rural life and by a mural of what I think is Germany.

I check out what's in his seven-foot tall built-in Miele fridge and separate freezer, and thankfully, he appears to eat well and doesn't shy away from fruits and vegetables. That's a plus.

My last boyfriend was a burger and fries guy who wouldn't know a fruit if it bit him in the ass, which is one of the reasons I went to Edward's gym. Unhealthy eating made me feel doughy and crappy.

Edward also has a full-size wine cooling unit that resembles a piece of furniture more than a refrigerator, and it's stocked with some pricey bottles, too. He also has a professional-looking gas range with a huge hood, numerous warming ovens, a ceramic cooktop, two built-in ovens, and every other cool kitchen appliance currently trendy.

Edward keeps this space—as he does all his others—immaculately clean, and I sigh because I love guys who take care of themselves and their spaces. He even has a heavy-duty-countertop-paper-towel holder with a marble spindle. You just have to love a guy that loves cleaning up messes.

"Making yourself comfortable, I see."

He catches me in his drawers looking for his corkscrew (his drawers? his corkscrew?). It's suddenly really warm in here, and I grab a potholder and start fanning myself with it. He's shed his jacket and shirt and is currently not wearing anything but a black bartender's waist apron with the catch phrase, "Tend this!," printed atop the fabric now covering his loins. Warm has suddenly turned to sweltering.

"Yeah, um, I was just looking for your corkscrew."

In his bare feet, he glides on terra-cotta-kitchen tile over to me with a wicked smile. He tips his head, takes my right hand, and places it over the silk-screened words on top of his very stiff cock, which not surprisingly resembles his firm, hard, thick, phallic-shaped, paper towel holder.

"Well, look no more."

Screwing with me, he magically produces a "cockscrew," I mean a corkscrew, seemingly out of thin air with his left hand. He releases his hand from mine to snake his arm around my waist, but I don't pull mine away. Setting the corkscrew down on the counter, he takes his left hand and places it around the back of my neck to pull me in to his lips. He must have shaved. His skin feels smooth as he tugs at my upper lip, wedging his tongue into my mouth.

"Mmm," I give him.

He presses into me further, which presses my hand into him further.

"Mmm," he gives me in return. "Your hand feels so good, but you feel even better. But if I don't stop, my counter will see some usage other than what it's intended for. And, though I'm definitely all in favor of using it unconventionally in the future, I need to feed you for what I have in mind for tonight."

What? No counter? Wait a minute. Unconventional future usage? Feed me for later? What about now? My "Bellabits" are Tweeting, calling for a revolution. They're ready to overthrow my government. My constitution is standing on shaky ground, and that's not the only thing shaking.

I start getting light-headed from the significance of everything—lack of food included—and also the fact my blood's gone south. My legs begin giving way.

"Whoa, Bella."

Edward grabs me just as I start to sway and places me onto one of his swiveling, padded, kitchen stools.

"Thank you."

"Here, let me get you some cheese and juice. I'm so sorry. You probably haven't eaten since this afternoon. I'm lucky you didn't pass out on me." He says this apologetically and seems quite flustered.

Edward grabs an Italian crystal glass and fills it with black currant juice then plates some firm, sharp, Vermont cheddar and some Parmesan-garlic-Ciabatta bread. He pours a generous puddle of olive oil—the same color of his intense green eyes—onto a white plate he dusts with freshly cracked pepper and a few Kalamata olives. I could certainly get used to this form of pampering.

"I'm really okay, Edward. You're right. I needed to get something in me."

"You mean other than me?"

"Actually, I think having _you_ in _me_ helped. Otherwise, I might have passed out from lack of nutrition."

"Well, in that case, I'll have to make sure I keep you well-nourished. Let's see how fast I can whip up that main course and get things put in you, besides what will go in your stomach."

* * *

A/N:

It sounds to me like Bella has many voids needing to be filled.

Do you think Edward is up to the challenge?

Is Bella?

Review me your thoughts.

* * *

Thank you to my magnifique beta, Chayasara, who's just magnifique.

* * *

Also, "Boys Will Be" has been nominated at the Twific Fandom Awards as Favorite LMFAO Fic.

* * *

If you are familiar with it and love it, please vote for it. If you haven't read it, please check it out. It really is very funny.

* * *

Ohgeefantasy, if you are reading this Mwah! Thank you for nominating me!

* * *

Thank you all for reading and your continued support.

PAD


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